Deference
by Cheryl Dyson
Summary: Arthur/Merlin slash. I recently got into this show on BBC and all I can say is GUH to the billionty. There will be more fics about these two. I GUARANTEE IT. MATURE CONTENT HEREIN.


(Author's Note: I wrote this fic over the course of two days on Twitter, spamming my followers mercilessly and yet, surprisingly, losing only two. Hence the odd format.)

"It's um... really... large," said Merlin.

"Of course it's large, _Merlin_." Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's a throne."

Merlin smirked. Arthur narrowed his eyes at him and frowned. "What?"

"Nothing!" Merlin said innocuously. "Nothing at all." The smirk widened into a full grin.

Arthur glared. "You were planning to make some crack about the size of my arse, weren't you?"

The grin disappeared with effort. "No." Merlin shook his head. "Noooo, of course not."

Arthur's suspicious glare abated somewhat. "Hmph. Well, good then."

"Of course, now that you mention it..."

Merlin jerked his head to avoid a rotten plum and wondered if the comment had really warranted an hour in the stocks.

Later, after a quick bath and a change of clothes, Merlin had the temerity to ask, "So. What happened to the old throne?"

Arthur gave him the usual heavy sigh. "Although it's none of your business, my father broke it."

Merlin managed to choke back a comment regarding the size of _Uther's _arse, but only because he was running low on clothes.

Arthur's lips narrowed, anyway. "He threw an impertinent servant into it. Idiot."

Merlin had to ask. "Really? Did you witness this feat, or is it merely a rumour?"

Arthur pursed his lips, a gesture that Merlin did not find attractive in the least, and said, "Are you doubting the King's word?"

Merlin asked, "Will it put me back in the stocks if I say, 'Yes'?"

"Possibly," Arthur admitted.

"Then I guess the king tossed a servant instead of shagging Gretchen over the chair, yeah?"

Arthur goggled at him. "Is that what they are saying?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. He had gotten the story from Gretchen, herself. He shrugged.

Arthur shook his head. "Regardless of how it was broken, this is the new throne." He patted the back of the chair firmly.

Merlin snorted. "Well, I do hope it's more study than the last model. For Gretchen's sake."

Arthur said, "Perhaps I should throw _you_ into it to test it?"

Merlin's brows rose at the thought of Arthur "throwing" him into the velvet-padded seat... and then straddling him. He choked.

Arthur stared at him. "What, exactly, was _that_ look for?"

Merlin threw him a panicked glance, wondering what his brief foray into fantasy had disclosed on his face.

Arthur glared at him and rounded the throne to stand far too close. "Could it be you have a thing for Gretchen, Merlin?"

Merlin gaped at him in complete surprise for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Me? And Gretchen? You think--? Me?"

Arthur looked affronted for a moment. "Well, as strange as it is to even consider you with a woman..."

Arthur's words trailed off and his eyes widened in a way Merlin did not trust.

It meant Arthur was THINKING. It did not bode well.

Arthur's words confirmed Merlin's fears. "Surely it's not my father, the king, you are interested in?" Arthur asked in a horrified tone.

Merlin's face twisted in revulsion. "EW! NO!" he shouted. "You are completely daft!"

Unfortunately, the words were bellowed just as a minor noble strode into the throne room.

Merlin's second trip to the stocks was no more pleasant than the first. Where did they get all the rotten produce, really?

When Merlin returned from the stocks, clad in his rattiest tunic, Arthur was still blithely reading reports.

"Back so soon?" Arthur asked, the prat. He jerked a thumb toward the offending throne. "It needs polishing now."

Merlin sighed. He would almost rather go back to the stocks than cover his hands in furniture oil and clean the monstrosity. Almost.

He reluctantly bent down and picked up the polish and cloth that someone had thoughtfully provided.

He threw a petulant look at Arthur, who was watching him. He made a show of shaking oil onto the cloth and rubbing at the wood.

"Merlin. I've been thinking." Merlin bit his lip nearly in half to keep from commenting. Honestly, he had no other clothes.

Merlin scrubbed furiously, hoping to finish the chair and flee before he was sent to the stocks again. Because Arthur was still talking as he got to his feet and walked to the doors.

"As I said, I've been thinking." Merlin glanced at Arthur when the large wooden plank dropped into the iron slots, effectively barring the doors.

"If you're not interested in Gretchen and you're not--thankfully--interested in my father, then it leaves only one possibility."

Merlin's hand jerked, sending his knuckles banging into the wood with a sharp rap. He winced. Arthur glided forward. He watched in silence as Arthur reached out and took his injured hand to examine the bruised knuckles.

"Poor Merlin," Arthur crooned. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Without loosening his grip on Merlin's hand, he caressed the knuckles with his thumb. Merlin dropped the jug of furniture oil. It crashed to the floor and shattered.

Arthur leaned forward until his lips brushed Merlin's ear. "You could go to the stocks for that," Arthur whispered, but he might as well have said, "I want to fuck you, Merlin."

"Stocks," Merlin repeated stupidly.

"Mmmhmm," Arthur hummed against his ear. "I think you might be interested in someone else, Merlin," Arthur continued and his hot breath warmed the shell of Merlin's ear.

"Are you?" Arthur asked and Merlin could feel nothing but the stroking of Arthur's thumb and the warmth of his breath.

"Am I interested?" Merlin repeated, feeling idiotic and rather... warm. "In... um...?"

"In _me_, Merlin," Arthur finished for him. Merlin could only nod stupidly and Arthur let out a breath. "Oh thank god. I thought I might have to toss you into the chair."

"Toss me into the chair," Merlin repeated, eyes widening.

"Fabulous idea. You might not be as stupid as I thought."

Merlin found himself unceremoniously shoved onto the seat of the throne. "Um... I could be executed for sitting in the King's seat," he pointed out.

"Yes, and we could both be executed for what I'm about to do to you on that seat," Arthur replied in a seductive tone.

Arthur dropped to his knees before Merlin in a strange reversal of master/servant and then leaned forward. His lips brushed over Merlin's lightly.

It seemed to snap Merlin's comatose state and he eagerly returned the kiss. He lifted his hands to push them into Arthur's hair, feeling the softness as though for the first time. Arthur's tongue slipped between his lips and Merlin welcomed it with a low moan. Arthur's hands were on his thighs, thumbs rubbing small circles over the sensitive flesh there.

Merlin's hands tightened in Arthur's hair and the kiss deepened into something wondrous. It was better than the rush Merlin felt when he used magic - this was magic of a different sort. Arthur's tongue licked over Merlin's, eliciting a response that would be only too evident if Arthur moved his hands upward.

And then Arthur did.

Arthur's hands gradually crept over the creases of Merlin's trousers until his thumbs trailed over Merlin's hardness. Merlin made an undignified noise and nearly jolted out of the chair, but one of Arthur's hands moved to his hip holding him down while the other hand covered his erection and pressed lightly. Merlin shivered.

Arthur continued to kiss him while his hand stroked methodically up and down his cock, until Merlin was nearly mindless. He tore his lips free, struggling to breathe. "Fuck. Fuck, Arthur," he said, gasping.

Arthur's voice was maddeningly normal. "Already? And here I thought you would require more foreplay." Arthur's fingers deftly unfastened the drawstring on Merlin's trousers and murmured, "Lift up."

Merlin complied with an order without question, for once, lifting his hips and allowing Arthur to tug his trousers down. His cock sprang free and Arthur looked at it curiously while Merlin held his breath.

"Why, Merlin," Arthur said with a smile. "Where have you been hiding _that_?"

Merlin's reply turned into a voiceless gurgle as Arthur's mouth closed over the head of his cock. Merlin thought he'd been close to coming before. Now, it was all he could do to keep from exploding into Arthur's hot mouth. He had to remove his hands from Arthur's hair and clench them on the arms of the chair. He strained to keep his hips from thrusting upward, knowing that would probably not be the wisest course of action. Merlin was close, so close, when Arthur pulled away. Merlin thought about begging for one wild moment.

"Not quite yet," Arthur said soothingly. "Lucky you spilled all this oil, although my knees don't thank you for the shards."

With that, Arthur's hand slipped between Merlin's legs to slide oiled fingers over the soft flesh near his puckered opening. Merlin's trousers were suddenly confining, encircling his thighs as they were. With a flash of magic, Merlin split them in half.

"Convenient," Arthur commented. "I was about to use my dagger."

Again, Merlin's reply was lost when Arthur's fingers moved to draw slowly around and around until Merlin thought he might die. Death became an even greater possibility when Arthur's finger slipped inside.

Thankfully, Arthur muffled Merlin's shout with another kiss or they might have brought servants running. Arthur chuckled against Merlin's lips and moved his finger slowly in and out, until Merlin was prepared enough for another. Merlin lost track after that, growing more mindless with every motion, until Arthur removed his fingers and shifted closer.

Merlin had seen Arthur's cock before, of course, since the prat couldn't wash his own back to save his life. It had never seemed particularly HUGE before, but it certainly did now.

"That will never fit," he said in a panicked tone.

"That's very flattering, Merlin, but I assure you, it will."

Not surprisingly, Arthur was correct, and Merlin was glad to note that it did not even require him to be torn open. Although it felt like it for a brief moment.

Arthur soothed him with gentle kisses and light touches that worked wonders at causing Merlin to relax. When Arthur finally started to move, it wasn't half bad, especially when he considered the expression on Arthur's face. Coupled with the fascinating sounds Arthur made. It was a novel experience watching the prince unravel.

The more Merlin focussed on Arthur and less on himself, the more intense the experience became. And then something shifted and Merlin gasped, nearly tearing out Arthur's hair, which his hands had rediscovered.

Arthur stopped immediately and stared at him. "Are you all right? You're not hurt, are you?"

"No! No, I'm... good," Merlin said and lifted his hips to try and recapture that last fascinating movement.

Arthur's eyes closed and he threw his head back, which was so captivating that Merlin did it again. "Merlin!" Arthur's grip tightened on his hips and he moved with more purpose as his eyes opened and bored into Merlin's.

Whatever Arthur was doing to him soon had Merlin mewling into his increasingly sloppy, panting kisses. His erection dragged over Arthur's abdomen with every stroke, until Merlin bit down on his own lip to stifle a scream. He came explosively, shuddering so violently he thought the damned throne might crack in half.

And then Arthur was quivering and gasping, as well, holding him tightly and murmuring his name over and over.

It took a while for Merlin to realize his spine was not exactly comfortable, but it didn't seem important. Not with Arthur's face buried in the curve of his throat.

"Looks like the new chair is sturdy enough," Merlin commented lightly. Arthur snickered, tickling his neck.

"You'll have even more fun cleaning it, now," Arthur said and Merlin groaned, wondering how to get the oil out of the cushion.

"You're still a prat," Merlin said, but his hands carded through Arthur's blond locks to soften the words.

"Yes, but I'm a prat who doesn't have to clean up my father's chair before his audience in...forty minutes."

Merlin yelped and fairly shoved Arthur away from him with an oath. Forty minutes? _Fuck!_ Arthur sprawled on the floor, half-nude and laughing. Merlin would have been angrier if he wasn't so damned lovely. He tried to adjust his clothing only to realize with horror that his trousers were ruined. Arthur got to his feet.

"I don't suppose you'll bring me a change of clothes?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course I will, Merlin," Arthur said amiably. Merlin's eyes narrowed as he awaited the conditions. "Provided you are in my bed, naked, this evening when I retire for the night," Arthur continued.

Merlin swallowed hard and nodded. "All right," he said meekly.

Arthur stepped forward and pressed a possessive kiss against Merlin's lips. "I like it when you follow orders," he purred.

For once, Merlin didn't feel like arguing.


End file.
